My youngest son graduated from high school last week. Instead of attending college, he’s decided to travel—see the world. It’s an exciting endeavor. And we wanted to launch the passing of his old life and the birth of his new one by doing something extraordinary. This is how we did it.

Adrenaline high
Pumping
Surging
Lifting me off
Giddy
Psyched
More nerves than seeds in a watermelon
Excitement dripping like a ripe vagina
No fear
What would be the point?
Choices presented and accepted force one to rise to the occasion.
An opportunity
A crossroad leading into the unknown
The expansion of possibility calls
I go—
Harnessing my body frees my mind of thoughts, doubts
Earthly cares
I climb up
Push back, strap in, fused to my anchor—
My anchor—a physical entity that poses as a safety net—
not to be confused with my true anchor, the one without fear
who has lived in the shadows while I depended on others for support
No more.
Pressed together like male and female snaps, sixteen spirits rise
Anticipation swells
No turning back. No such word as regret or doubt.
The Readiness is All—
My head leads back, body arches
The sky surrounds me
Supported, weightless, free
I am all of myself
Limitless
Timeless
Abundant
A wealth of possibilities
Experience erases thought
Control is no longer a word
Words evaporate
Tears swell, surface
Ignite the passion, which will fuel
the rest of my life
The ground comes up wet and muddy beneath me
I lay down—one with the earth
While my soul flies—
Skydive.

One of my dearest friends has been skydiving since we were in college. I thought she was crazy. When she broke her back and spent several months in the hospital, I was certain she’d quit. She didn’t. Now, I know why.

When you soar through the sky, free from the trappings that weigh down your life, how you see your life changes. For my son, the experience has underscored his desire to see the world and do all the things he has, until now, only dared to dream about.

For me, my experience in freefall screamed of Mrs. Dalloway, “What a lark! What a plunge!” And without thinking I knew my days of holding down a day job were over. In fact, I have spoken to my boss about an exit strategy.

I’m disciplined. I’ve written six plays and completed three manuscripts. But my current WIP is in desperate need of another overhaul. A rewrite that will break all the bad habits and purge the “precious darlings” that are strangling the heart of my characters. This new draft is going to demand all that I have. There is no way to go forward in fits and starts with an hour here, twenty minutes there.  So I’m re-orchestrating my finances and plan to be a full time writer within six months to a year. For this artist, at this point in time, there is no other way. No more safety zones.

What about you? What was your overdue wake-up call? Or what fears of yours keep you at the edge of the precipice rather than falling and screaming, “What a lark! What a plunge!”?

Thanks for reading and being the presence I need to discover what I must to write on.

Want to plunge?